


To Be Seen

by roguedreadwolf



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, Moving On, My First Smut, NSFW, Sexual Tension, The Spy Who Loved Me, a little bit of mutual pining, but now i am here for it, this ship came at me out of nowhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 21:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguedreadwolf/pseuds/roguedreadwolf
Summary: Aelyn Lavellan struggles to remember who she is after the defeat of Corypheus, Solas's departure, and the death of her clan. The Iron Bull reminds her.





	To Be Seen

**Author's Note:**

> This thought would not leave my head. I have not written consistently in 10+ years, and I have never posted my writing before, so this is incredibly nerve-wracking for me. Plus it's my first time writing smut. Let's just rip all the band-aids off at once, shall we?

Silence was once her refuge.

In the noise and commotion that came with living in a Dalish clan, silence and solitude were rare, and at a young age Aelyn learned to appreciate both.

When she became a hunter--as she spent her days and weeks on her own, following trails, tracking game--silence became normal. Silence meant a successful hunt. Silence meant safe. The forest became her shelter. The trees and wind her companions. Silence meant a few nights with full bellies and a happy clan.

But the conclave had ended her peaceful silence with a flash of blinding green light. And compared to living in a clan, the Inquisition was deafening. Swords clashing in the training yards, the screech of ravens, the cries of the injured, the debates amongst her advisors on which path they would walk… so much _noise_. She often felt overwhelmed by sound. In those first few months, she was desperate for silence.

Silence is what first brought her to Solas.

His quiet nature calmed her. The lilt of his voice steadied her. His presence at her side kept her from shattering apart under the pressures of command and loss. She returned to him again and again. He was a balm in a hot and angry world.

But he left her. First in Crestwood, and then again after she defeated Corypheus. And after his departure, silence was no longer a refuge. Silence meant remembering him, and all she had lost. Silence meant pain.

Which is why she now spent most of her evenings in the Herald’s Rest, surrounded by the clan she never expected to want or need. They played cards or told stories--each more unbelievable than the last. She did not often participate--just watched, listened, laughed, drank, and tried to give her heart the noise it needed to forget him.

But it was getting late, and the crowd was beginning to thin. Varric gave her a small wave as he went off to bed, his purse much heavier than it had been when he had arrived.

Bull plunked a tankard down in front of her, and she blinked out of the haze of her own thoughts. She smiled up at him as he sat down--taking the seat next to her, instead of across from her. Ah, he wanted to talk, then.

“How you doin’, boss?” His voice was low. The question was not rhetorical.

“Never better,” she said with a small smile.

His eye narrowed. “Uh-huh. You’ve been sitting over here by yourself all night… just like you do every night.” He sighed, his voice going gentle. “I know Solas messed you up, boss, but shit, I’m starting to worry. We’re all starting to worry.”

Her heart stuttered at his name. How long had it been since she had heard his name? And how could it still hurt so badly? She did not know how to answer him, so she drank instead.

He recognized the dodge and growled. “Ah, come on, boss!”

She held his gaze for a moment, and then folded. “Bull, honestly, you see more than most. You know I’m a disaster,” she said with a rueful chuckle. He motioned for her to drink. His way of telling her he wasn’t satisfied with that response. She huffed. “The breach is sealed, Corypheus is dead. We saved the world and I should still be celebrating. But it’s all empty. My clan… and… the future I wanted... “ she swallowed, catching herself before she went too far down that path. Another drink. “The things that defined me and kept me going for years are gone. There’s nothing left for me.” Bull’s gaze locked in on her, and she continued quickly, “It’s like I have to figure out who I am all over again.”

“There is _plenty_ left for you.” He growled. He was staring at her now. Daring her to continue that thought. _Insufferable Ben-Hassrath_ , she thought. He had always been able to see right through her--and most others. She opened her mouth to respond, but as she did his gaze dipped down to her mouth--only for an instant--but it was enough. She froze. And suddenly she was thinking back--years ago--to another night where he had looked at her mouth like that.

~

He had been easy to flirt with, in the beginning. The big, unshakeable Iron Bull. The two of them were different enough from the humans to find common ground, and even though he could be loud and bawdy, he could also be quiet and observant. They had grown close fairly quickly after he and his Chargers had joined the Inquisition. The mercenary company reminded her of her hunting party back with her clan. She was accustomed to being one of a few females in a rowdy group of males, and fell in with them easily. Joking with them--flirting with Bull--had given her a certain sense of control and comfort. But when Aelyn made the call to sacrifice the qunari dreadnought rather than the Chargers, something between them changed.

She had returned to her room one evening to find him there, on her bed, making a ridiculous joke about _riding the Bull_. She considered sending him away… but the desire that pooled low in her belly as he stalked toward her, backing her against the wall, that had been real. As he loomed over her--large and solid and scarred--she felt impossibly safe. She had not accepted until that moment that she wanted him. He had warned her--given her plenty of opportunities to walk away--but she challenged him instead. And when he had her hands pinned above her head, he had looked at her mouth like it was the only thing he had ever wanted. When she finally asked him to stay, he had lifted her in his arms, and taken her.

After, it was clear that there were no strings attached--for either of them. He gave her the option: she would lead and command on the field, but at night, he would take that burden from her shoulders.

But that arrangement never transpired again. A few weeks later Solas had been on her balcony. “ _Ar lath, ma vhenan,_ ” Solas had said, but even then he was already turning away from her.

~

Her eyes began to sting. Time to go. “I know, Bull. Thank you.” She stretched her arms over her head, making a show of being tired. “Well, I’m off. Thanks for the drink.”

Bull was still watching her. “Sure. Nice talking with you, boss.”

She was lost in thought as she returned to her quarters, and for the first time in months she did not have to remind herself not to look toward the rotunda.

Her room was freezing, and she shivered as she slid out of her leathers and into her sleeping shift. As she padded across the room to close her balcony doors, she heard the slight click of her door being opened, and then heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. She grabbed a dagger from her desk a moment before she recognized his gate, and saw his horns bobbing up the stairs.

“Bull?”

He smirked as he noticed the dagger in her hand, but he kept walking until he was towering over her. He was warm, and solid, and huge. He smelled of leather and nights under the stars. The memories of their night together all those years ago came slamming back into her again.

“What are you doing?” But she knew. She knew immediately why he was here. Why he was looking at her like that. Her mouth had gone very dry.

“That depends. What do you need?”

She cocked her head. “What do I need?”

His gaze went right through her, pinning her where she stood. “You laughed when you told me there was nothing left for you. And you laughed because laughing keeps your friends--keeps me--from taking what you say too seriously. But I know you, boss. I see you. And you _need_ to know that,” he whispered gruffly. He was moving toward her again now. He grasped her hand and took the dagger, stabbing it into the desk. “You are Aelyn fucking Lavellan and you need to know you matter to someone. To me.”

Aelyn’s breath whooshed out of her as her back hit the wall. She did not remember backing up. “I’m fine, Bull. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Stop worrying about what _I_ need,” he growled. “Stop worrying about what _everyone else_ needs. What do _you_ need.”

Her hands clenched into fists. The realization of what he was offering twisting her gut; rage and embarrassment coursing through her in equal measure. “And you think I need what, Bull? A pity fuck?”

Bull chuckled. “If it helps.”

She snarled, and greatly regretted letting him take her dagger.

His gaze softened. “It’s been over a year, boss. You haven’t been interested in anyone else.” It wasn’t a question. “What about Cullen? He’s been in love with you since the second you fell out of Andraste’s ass.”

Aelyn huffed a small laugh. “Thanks for the visual.” She had thought about Cullen. Often, if she were to be honest with herself. He was kind and quiet, and she had known for a long time that he had feelings for her--she had held feelings for him too at one point. But she knew that Cullen would not be casual. And though Solas had made it perfectly clear that he considered their relationship ended, Aelyn was not sure she was ready to admit that. Beginning with Cullen meant accepted that Solas was truly gone.

She was not ready.

“I’m not ready for someone to love me.” She said quietly.

“Funny, I think that’s _exactly_ what you need.” Bull leaned in to her, his hand braced on the wall near her cheek. And now, as he was all those years ago, he loomed over her large and solid and scarred. Her body remembered him, and all the ways he had known exactly what she needed and she had burst apart around him. The desire she coiling in her felt nearly foreign, and she wondered, distantly, if it should feel like a betrayal.

But for him to be here now, only because he thought she might feel better if they lie together... He was offering himself up as a tool to be used, and she would not allow it.

“Bull… you think this is what I would want? You to want me because you feel _obligated_?”

He was watching her closely. “Obligated?” He shook his head slightly. “No. I’m no Tamassran. And it’s not just about sex. I just wanted to remind you that you are connected to more than just Solas.” Her eyes narrowed, and he paused.

“But I think about that night, and I wanted you again more times than I should admit.” His voice was confident, steady. “You never came back, and that was just fine. You were with Solas and you were happy, so I let you go. No hard feelings and no strings attached, remember? But Solas is gone, and you needed time to heal. But you’re not healing... you’ve been fucking withering away in front of me for months. I’m done pretending I don’t see it.” He steadied himself with a deep breath. “And I’m done pretending I don’t need this too. That I don’t need you.”

Her breath caught.

He was closer, now. His thumb brushed her cheek. “You remember the word? Katoh. You say that and I walk away, no questions asked. But I want you, Aelyn.”

Her core went molten at the words. And she believed him. His name had been _Liar_ , but in this she knew he was honest.

“So, Aelyn…” A pause between every word. “What do you need?”

She was looking up at him now, breaths coming rapidly. And he was right. Solas had left her. Her clan was lost. And now that she wasn’t necessary to seal the breach or defeat Corypheus, she was terrified no one really needed her anymore. So she needed to be seen. She needed to be understood. She needed to be wanted. She needed him.

Last time he had a crooked smile. This time his lips were parted, chest rising and falling quickly, and once again his gaze was on her mouth. His throat bobbed with a hard swallow.

“I want…” she panted, “Bull… I-I need…” She couldn’t finish.

“I know, Aelyn.”

And then his mouth was on hers. She arched up into him, arms wrapping around his neck. His kiss was hungry, and she answered in kind. Her body was singing already--it had been over a year since someone had touched her, and the anticipation was intoxicating. She was desperate for the press of his skin against hers, and her trembling hands fisted in the strap of leather across his chest, pulling him closer. He obliged immediately, his hands settled on her hips and twisted into her shift. Hers pressed down to his abdomen. She felt the hard muscles of his stomach clench beneath her palms.

The kiss deepened, Bull slid his tongue along the seam of her mouth and she groaned, opening for him. His hands slid beneath her shift and up her sides, his palms so large he could crush her ribs if he chose, and something about that thrilled her. She broke from him with a gasp, and his mouth left hers to travel her jaw, then down her neck to her collarbone. He nipped at the junction of her neck and shoulder, and she whined. Then his mouth was moving back up, and as he kissed the place directly behind her ear, her vision went white. She gasped, her hands fisting desperately into the waist of his ridiculous trousers.

Bull chuckled against her ear, and his warm breath on the shell of her ear-- _Creators_. His tongue traced the place his lips had been, and she pulled him into her, one of her thighs hooking around his waist--seeking any kind of friction she could find. He answered with a grunt of approval and his body pressed against her firmly, pinning her against the wall.

She was on fire. His mouth caught hers again, and she took his bottom lip between her teeth. She felt the deep rumble of his moan reverberate against her, one hand moving up to her neck, the other sliding down to cup her ass. The sharp intake of breath when he found her bare urged her on. She rolled her hips into his groin, finding him painfully hard against her. His mouth broke from hers with a moan. She opened her eyes to look at him, rolling against him again. His eyes were screwed shut and he panted, relishing the feel of her rocking against his length. She had never seen him so undone before, and the sight had her aching for him.

His eyes opened and he met her gaze. His pupil was blown wide and hungry, but a moment of understanding passing between them. This would be different. He did not want to dominate her, and she did not wish to submit. They were different now--they had both been changed by the events of the last few years.

His hand moved to brush her hair behind her ear, but instead she caught his wrist, and brought it to her mouth. She kissed the pulse point there, and then his palm. He was watching her closely, his gaze unsure and a little wild. Bull had fucked, certainly, but had anyone ever _loved_ him, she wondered? She turned his hand and kissed his knuckles, fingers lightly tracing the scars that criss-crossed his hands, his forearms. Then pressed her lips against the tips of his fingers, or what was left of some of them. Bull’s breathing hitched, and she noticed.

Her eyes locked onto his face as she took his first finger into her mouth, gently swirling her tongue around it. Bull moaned, his thumb caressing her jaw. She sucked hard, pulling the rest of his finger into her mouth. Bull gasped, his hips thrusting into her reflexively. He met her gaze, and something in him snapped. He surged forward with a growl, slating his mouth against hers again, fierce and desperate.

His hands roved over her, and hers went around his neck again, her nails digging into his shoulders. Tongues pressed for entry, and the air was filled with gasps and soft moans. Her shift was over her head and on the floor; she did not know whose idea it was to remove it. Bull palmed her breasts, his calloused palms raising goosebumps on her flesh. She was writhing against him, arching into his palms. He broke their kiss momentarily so he could watch her, taking in how her nipples peaked under his touch. He rubbed his thumb over one and she keened, wrapping her other leg around his waist and pulling herself higher. He lifted her gently and then fell upon her breast, kissing and sucking while she gasped.

Her hands scrambled against him, clawing against the hard won muscles in his shoulders and upper back. He finally took a peaked bud into his mouth, and she cried out. He flicked his tongue against her, pushing her higher. As she panted his name he braced a hand against the wall, gaze boring into her as she writhed, his cock aching to slam home inside her.

“Aelyn, I want to touch you. Let me touch you?” his voice was husky and deep, and it brought her back to the surface with a thrill.

“Creators, yes. Touch me, Bull, please,” and then she pulled his mouth back to hers again.

His hand slid between her legs tentatively, and when he found her wet his chest rumbled with satisfaction. She whined into his mouth as his fingers slid into her folds--teasing. _More_ , she needed more of him.

Frantic fingers fumbled to undo his belt, and then his trousers were down enough that she took him in her hand. He was hard and leaking, and her clever fingers were already working him. Bull growled and snatched her hand away, pinning it above her head. She was rocking now, aching, and desperate for some kind of friction. Bull obliged as he slid a finger into her, the heel of his hand pressed expertly against the most sensitive part of her.

He broke away for a moment to watch her. Her chest, ears, and cheeks were flushed the most delicious shade of pink. “Bull,” she panted. He slid another finger into her, pumping in and out as he rolled his thumb over her clit. She whined, her nails digging in to his shoulders as she fought to better angle her hips into him. He kissed her again, tongue probing and swallowing her cries as he fucked her with his hand.

“Fuck, you’re stunning,” he mumbled thickly, and he was throbbing, aching to bury himself inside her. But not yet, not yet. His lips found hers again, but she could no longer hold his kiss. Close, she was so close.

“Come for me,” he commanded gruffly. She cried out, sharp and small, and then she went still and silent, her head falling back and body clenching as she came around his fingers. He held her, watching as she spiraled down, lips parting beautifully.

She was aware of her back leaving the wall as Bull lifted her away, carrying her toward the bed. He laid her on her back gently, and then stood back to finish undressing. Her hands roved her body as his heat left her; she kneaded her breasts absently, thighs clenched together and twisting. Still coming to her senses and already needing more of him.

Aelyn opened her eyes, looking for him. “Bull?”

“I’m here.” He was standing at the end of bed, and he couldn’t stop his hand from slowly pumping his cock as he watched her. She watched his hand work, arousal spiking through her, and she licked her lips. He hummed in approval at the sight.

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her. She rose up for him immediately, taking him by surprise. And as she kissed him, her hand snaked down between them and she took him in hand. “ _Vashedan_!” He groaned as she pumped him once, twice, but then he took both her wrists and pinned them above her head once again, under one of his massive palms.

He took himself in hand and pressed against her entrance, sinking in to her slowly, so slowly, an inch at a time. And then he pulled out of her. She gasped at the abrupt departure of his velvet heat, her eyes darting up to his. He was watching her as he pressed into her once again. Her hips rolled, and she moaned, but he pulled away once again. She cried out in frustration, hips chasing him but unable to reach him.

Their eyes met, and there was something wholly undone and vulnerable in Bull’s gaze now. Her heart stuttered at the sight of it. “Bull,” she whispered.

“Beg me, Kadan,” his voice was throaty, wild.

A surge of heat and desire swooped through her at the tone of his voice. She knew what that word meant--the weight it held, and what it meant for him to say it.

Her eyes went wide and her heart cracked open. He blinked, seeming to realize what he said. “I won’t--If you don’t want…”

But she kissed him, hard, her heart singing. He groaned into her mouth, and she knew it was not because of the sensation, but her acceptance of the endearment.

“Please, Bull. Kadan. _Please_. I want you,” she panted. The tip of his cock pressed against her again, sliding into her slowly. Her hips bucked, trying to take him in deeper. He let out a low growl, fighting to hold himself back. His head was dipped, watching where their bodies fit together. He pulled back out again, and she nearly sobbed.

“Bull--Bull, look at me, please.” His gaze snapped up. “Take me.” He entered her again, an inch, two--and stopped. “Ah! Creators! I need you,” they were both gasping now, the heat between them nearly unbearable. “ _Bull, I need you_.”

Finally, _finally_ , he thrust into her. He went slowly, watching her face and allowing her body to adjust to the size of him. Aelyn’s body bowed, head falling back with a choked gasp. _Gods_ , he was huge. He stretched her entirely; pleasure on the very edge of pain.

Once he was seated to the hilt, he paused, gasping. _Fuck_ , she felt exquisite. He was lost in the tight wet heat of her. He took a deep, steadying breath. Then another. He was already so close, too close..

Her gaze met his once again, and he released her wrists so he could tangle a hand in her hair. Her hand went to his cheek, her thumb running gently along his bottom lip. Bull shuddered, and Aelyn clenched around him, eyes shutting momentarily at the sensation, but then she was watching him again, the look in her eyes curious and a little stunned.

He leaned down, his mouth catching hers softly, gently. “Kadan,” he whispered. And he began to move, the rock of his hips matching the pace of his kiss. Slow, thorough, building. He swallowed her shuddering gasps, her breathy moans. Each one driving him further on, his pace increasing.

He pulled away from her slightly, desperate to watch her beneath him. The bounce of her breasts, the way her fists twisted into the blankets, her lips parted as she moaned his name, back arching off the bed.

As she twisted her head to the side, lost in pleasure, he could not ignore the column of her throat. So he fell upon it, kissing, licking, sucking, biting, until her fingers curled around his scalp, nails digging in at the base of his horns. The sounds they made built, moans echoing and rebounding off the walls around them.

When her moans came close to sobs, he knew she was close. He grasped her thigh just above her knee, hitching it on his hip to hit hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside her. She cried out, nails digging in to his shoulders. “Bull!” she cried.

“Look at me,” he said. Her eyes opened and met his, and he was undone. She recognized, distantly, that the look in his eyes was different than any other she had seen from him before. And from somewhere far away, the realization came to Aelyn that this wasn’t sex, wasn’t fucking--this was making love. As she held his gaze, a thrilling and terrifying connection solidified between them.

She was holding on by a thread, waiting for him, and looking into his eyes was going to throw her over the edge. He kept thrusting, teeth clenched and shuddering against his own climax, but wanting to watch her break for him one more time.  

“Let go, Kadan,” he moaned. The word rushed through her, as if it commanded a magic of its own, and she came, head thrown back, light and heat exploding throughout her body. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from following her--not yet. He kept pushing her higher, fighting off his own end that was a hair's breadth away so he could watch her fall apart beneath him. And as he held her, as her walls clenched around him as her climax rode through her, she cried out his name, and he could endure it no longer. He roared and followed, gasping as he spilled into her at last.

His arms began to shake, and he rolled them so he would not collapse on top of her. They both lie there panting for a time, Aelyn rising and falling with the movement of Bull’s chest.

His thumbs rubbed idle circles in her hips and brought her slowly out of her doze, and she hummed softly at the sensation. She looked up at him, and was surprised to see him gazing down at her, his cocky smile back on his face.

She had to ask--could in no way ignore what had just happened between them, but was afraid that saying it out loud destroy this strange now place in which they found themselves. Her hesitation must have shown in her eyes.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Y-You called me kadan .” She couldn’t look away from him, terrified she would miss some small tell.

“It means _heart_ , or something close to it.”

“I know.”

“Is that all right?” his tone was casual, but she could see the slight edge of fear in his eyes.

“Is it… real?” Because she could not stand it. Could not stand to be called that if he did not mean it. If it was just a way for him to help her feel connected.

Bull did not answer right away. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her. “I know you love Solas--I’m not asking you to stop. If you aren’t comfortable with this, just say the word and I walk away. I’ll let you go.”

She knew he would. If she told him to go, he would go, and tomorrow he would smile at her and say “how you doin’, boss,” the same way he had the day before. But he had not answered her.

Bull had always been such a good liar.

“Do you mean it, Bull?” The question came out a little sharper than she expected. Now her heart was thundering. She wondered if he could hear it.

“Yes, it’s real. It has been for a long time.”

Bull had been constant, steady. Always by her side, always seeing her as an equal, as a partner. She blinked. And somehow Bull saying it out loud made everything fall into place; she felt the realization sliding over her. She loved him. It was different than the love she had for Solas. Solas had always been nearly out of reach, she had always sensed in him that desire to bolt, to flee.

She did not know what this love was, what it meant for her--for them--but she loved him. “I love you,” she said softly.

He smiled gently. “I love you, too. I want you to smile again.”

She laughed. “The Iron Bull! Are you going soft on me?”

She squealed as he rolled her beneath him, grinning lewdly. “Not anytime soon, kadan.”


End file.
